


Warmth (WAdvent 2020 #1)

by gardnerhill



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M, Watson's Woes WAdvent, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27815248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: It's the little things in the middle of a dreary winter time.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	Warmth (WAdvent 2020 #1)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the December 2020 Watson's Woes. We may not have an official Wadvent this year, but we can certainly decorate a few days here and there.

The chill of early December seeped past my greatcoat and clawed its way toward my bones. Head down, I kept my mind solely upon putting one foot in front of the other. This year's influenza outbreak was made worse by the lower temperatures outside. I had been run from post to pillar all day with my patients; I had done what I could, and moved on to the next. The hour was late and bitterly cold, and all I wanted was home. A bachelor could expect nothing better than a cup of cold tea, a quick face-wash in a cold basin, and sliding between icy bedsheets.

I let myself into 221 as quietly as I could; I did not want to awaken Mrs. Hudson nor the sleeping Billy by the kitchen stove. Up the stairs to the first set of rooms. I unlocked the door.

Warmth washed over me. The room was lit by a single candle on the dining table, providing enough light to see. The hearth was at a steady blaze still, not banked for the night. My nightshirt was warming on a rod before the fire; a covered plate sat on the hob, with the teakettle nearby.

I turned up the gaslight and used a nearby dishcloth to remove the warm plate from the hob and set it on the table before moving the kettle into its place to heat up. Mrs. Hudson's sturdy lamb stew and potatoes were exactly what I needed after a long cold day, with a steaming brandy-laced cup of tea finishing the job.

Enough hot water remained in the kettle to warm the basin contents so I could have a proper wash before getting into my warmed nightshirt. I banked the fire and turned down the gas before going into the bedroom.

I made my way by touch and slid between deliciously-warm sheets. Holmes never stirred as I took my place beside him, and I congratulated myself on my stealth.

On such nights, I was very thankful that I was not a bachelor.


End file.
